How Kiyo Met Miho
by Al Kristopher
Summary: How did Kiyone and Mihoshi first meet? How did they get to be partners? What was their first mission together like? At long last, the answers to these questions, and many more, are revealed!


"**How Kiyo Met Miho**"

A _Tenchi Universe_ origin story

By Al Kristopher

The Galaxy Police Scholastic and Municipal Aptitude Test (GP-SMAT, or just "_that_ Test", for those in the know) was one of the most formidable entities in all the known universe, and one of the oldest. It did, after all, slightly precede the Galaxy Police themselves, having first been put into effect some days before the official formation of the interplanetary constabulary force. Until then, there had been no universally acceptable criteria for joining the force (not that it was even called the Galaxy Police back then); as long as an applicant was deemed worthy in the general sense, they were good to go. But even order must have order to it, and so all the available leaders were gathered to create what would evolve into the most brutal, demanding, exacting examination within and without the borders of the Jurai Empire.

That having been said, there were only a thousand questions. The constructors of the test figured that was a good solid number—too many and _nobody_ would be able to pass, too few and any dimwit could slip through. The first hundred or so were downright insulting; practically anybody who had some sense would ace the beginning, no question. That had been a deliberate act of the test architects, though, a deception to throw off the more foolish applicants. Questions became increasingly difficult the further they went in: a casual person might give up around #243 (concerning interplanetary diplomacy), an indifferent student would surrender around #376 (obscure weapons identification), and someone who had only hit the more mainstream libraries would fall flat come #411 (survival on a planet few had heard of and fewer had actually visited).

The test was designed to fail all but the very best. A twisted design, perhaps, but effective in the end: those who made it past 700 had obviously put a lot into their work. They _wanted_ to be Galaxy Police officers badly enough that they would dive into those dustier reference bins to look up the various traffic laws of the binary worlds of Thoth and Amon. They'd burn massive quantities of midnight oil; they'd memorize pages of cryptic passages; they'd invest thousands of credits into strict colleges. They would still end up missing hundreds of questions, though, because the test was also designed to create the awareness of weakness and ignorance. Officers who didn't know the correct interrogation procedures for the Hastryans would mend their ways in time. Knowing the difference between an illegal gram of Special Quest and a perfectly acceptable dose of Special _Guest_ would turn out more critical than one might think. If an officer got over 800 right, they didn't merely want to be a member of the GP, they _had_ to be one.

Over the years, as the infamy of "that Test" grew, those with an outside interest applied, just to see how difficult it was. Geniuses, adepts, savants, experts, scientists, doctors, professors, even former veterans tried their hand. Most of them scored remarkably well; getting over 920 was standard for their lot. But getting over 950 was only reserved for the most highly decorated officers, those wunderkinds that only came around once a generation or so.

If you got 975 correct, you would automatically become a living legend, and your name would be revered for all of time. If criminals so much as heard a breath of a rumor of your appearance, it was said they would find a more "ordinary" officer, and surrender to them immediately, rather than risk the other encounter.

In the thousands of years of its existence, only a very small number of people had gotten over 990. Emperors of Jurai always counted them as honored guests.

But in all of that time, nobody had ever gotten a perfect score. It was considered impossible. No single mind, not even an entire enclave of the most brilliant minds in all the known universe, could ever score perfectly. The creators had designed it that way, too, as if to say, "Nobody's perfect, but that's okay. That means you've got something to work towards." Long had it been debated that even the makers of the test themselves wouldn't have performed flawlessly. Too many minds had went into its making, and too much time had shaped it and evolved it into the perfect assessment. It was a goal no living being could ever aspire to.

Until recently. One person, amidst the trillions of applications across countless ages, finally succeeded. They had proved everyone wrong; they had become a living miracle, a statistical anomaly, a being whose very name was sublimity and awe and inspiration. The universe had finally given the test its worthiest opponent, and it had been found wanting.

In just a few minutes, rookie officer Kiyone Makibi was going to meet this god amongst mortals. She was understandably nervous.

"Okay, get a grip there, Kiyone," she muttered to herself, more of a mantra than an assurance. It was the anxiety talking, and there was nothing she could do to quiet it. "Just relax, be yourself, don't mess up, and look the part. You got a nine-hundred thirty-seven. That's nothing to be ashamed of. Less than a million people ever scored that high, so you're in the elite. Yeah. You're elite, Kiyone, so chin up, chest out, feet firm. Please stop shaking. Don't make a fool of yourself. By Tsunami, Kiyone, don't make a fool of yourself. I _really_ wish I'd stop sweating."

She had showered twice and put on more layers of antiperspirant than was strictly necessary. The stuff was pleasantly fragrant, but she wondered how overpowering her overdose was. Maybe the Miracle wouldn't notice. Maybe such mortal concerns were beyond her. Perhaps she wouldn't even know that Kiyone was there. Some mental conditions lent their owners disparaging afflictions: on the one hand, genius, but on the other hand, abnormal social behavior. Her words would probably be esoteric, philosophical, eloquent beyond comprehension. No doubt she spoke hundreds of languages.

It was through sheer luck and sheer luck alone that she would be Kiyone's very first partner. A Miracle must start somewhere, so why not fit her with a "mere" genius, and get all the trivialities of experience and cooperation out of the way? She's be Supreme Commissioner in no time, and Kiyone would get...well, some menial job. Captain, most likely, or maybe even Chief, if she worked hard. Nothing _special_.

Kiyone knew she had a lot to be thankful for, a lot to pride herself on. Eight-hundred members of the "nine-hundred plus" club had applied to be the Miracle's partner, and she had been chosen out of them all. To say that it would be the high point of her life, an honor above all honors, truly undervalued the experience she would get. People who would normally never envy anything would soon envy _her_. They would look on in yearning. Thousands would beg her to mentor them, merely because she had shared the presence of this awesome force beyond words. She never let the fact that she would be brushed aside and forgotten dampen her outlook: no, that was fine. It was the journey she was interested in, not its destination.

She took one more look at the data card as the elevator mounted the 67th, 68th, 69th, and 70th floors. Just ten more to go. Ten floors later, a mere three or four minutes, and she would be face-to-face with the universe's greatest living creature. She would, at last, meet Mihoshi Kuramitsu.

"But really," she murmured as she studied the woman's profile, "I wonder what she's like."

_Ding!_ A pleasant chime broke Kiyone from her meditation. She took a deep breath as the elevator door opened. She walked forward three steps, eyes straight, and snapped to rigid attention, finishing with a flawless salute. Her voice rang out loud and clear, just as she had rehearsed it so many times before.

"Good morning, ma'am! Rookie Officer Kiyone Makibi of sector ninety-three reporting for duty!"

The room was completely deserted. Completely silent. There was a desk in front of her, with stacks of papers, a computer, and several holo-photo stands on it. A cabinet stood off to the side, crowned by a plant. The floor had a large red carpet with gold lining spread across it. On Kiyone's right was a broad window that gave an incredible view of Galaxy Police headquarters; on her left was another doorway, which led to the rest of the seventieth floor. No people, though; no Miracle.

Kiyone did not let her guard down for a moment. She had anticipated tests that reflected the inevitable quirks that accompanied great genius. No doubt Officer Kuramitsu was hidden somewhere, likely in a secret compartment, where she'd have full visual and audio access to the room. She could watch her future partner and determine if she would crack under this kind of treatment. Kiyone wouldn't, of course; she wanted to give the perfect first impression and kept her stance for some time.

"Rookie Officer Kiyone Makibi of sector ninety-three reporting for duty," she repeated in a more restrained voice. "I was the one chosen from a lottery of eight-hundred to be your first partner, ma'am. I consider it a high honor and gladly submit myself to your wisdom and experience. I am ready to begin as soon as you are. I am in no hurry."

Still talking to herself. Wherever Officer Kuramitsu was hidden, it was beyond Kiyone's ability to influence. She decided to remain at attention, even if the hours should tick away. Goodness knows what the Miracle would do if she faltered. Still...

"If it's not too forward, ma'am, I would like to meet you at once. I feel it is a part of my duty to become acquainted with my new partner, so that we might be able to better assist one another and form an understanding."

Nothing.

"Please," she added. Again, nothing. The patience of some people, even in the most important scenarios, will eventually wear thin. Kiyone respected her future partner but wished she was getting some kind of response. She was on time—two minutes early, as a matter of fact. Her superiors had assured her that Officer Kuramitsu would be there. Unless...yes, of course! Something far more important than the meeting of a Miracle and a mortal must be keeping her away! It was the only explanation that made any sense. Officer Kuramitsu had been called away on something urgent, and had to postpone her meeting. But would the need have permitted her to leave a message?

She was about to call her superiors when she heard distant footsteps speeding down a hallway. They became closer and louder every second, and it sounded like they were heading her way. She stood to attention again as the left-side door finally opened, and a young woman burst through, screeching and flailing. She tripped on something and fell head-first into the desk, crashing so hard that the room trembled, and several stacks of papers found their way tumbling to the floor. As the ruckus slowly settled, Kiyone stared in awe, not yet able to wrap her mind around what had happened. She heard a soft groan, so whoever this person was, they were still alive, at least.

"Um...are you okay?" she offered. Kiyone closed in on the mess, pushing aside the desk chair and clearing away the papers. She pulled the woman up by her arm, then immediately noticed her badge number. Kiyone straightened, saluting again, staring with the utmost respect and dignity. "I beg your pardon, ma'am, I..."

"Ugh, owie," she moaned, rubbing her forehead. She nursed herself heedless of her company, but finally noticed her, and winced sheepishly. "Um...hi there! Heheh, loose rug."

Kiyone turned pale. Was the Miracle uncoordinated?

"Think nothing of it, ma'am. I am Rookie Officer Kiyone Makibi of sector ni—"

"Oh, wow, _you're_ Kiyone?! It's so great to finally meet you! I've heard _so_ much about you!" The young woman brightened immediately, her bruises forgotten, and shook Kiyone's hands vigorously. "So you're gonna be my first partner, huh? Wow, you look even cooler and prettier than your pictures!" She giggled again, completely breaking Kiyone's rigid stance. Just what in the worlds _was_ this?

_She's...friendly!_

"I heard you got a nine-hundred forty on that Test," she continued, their hands still clasped together. "That's _amazing_! They say only the best and most special of all geniuses get scores that high! You must be incredible!"

Kiyone faltered even more, not quite sure how to handle this unwarranted praise. There was no condescending tone to her voice; Officer Kuramitsu was clearly impressed and excited. It took a truly remarkable person to recognize and commend the actions of another, especially if they happened to be inferior. If she had any doubts about this woman's identity, they were now dispelled. Sure, she was a whole lot more cheerful and outgoing than Kiyone had envisioned, but perhaps these were just typical genius's quirks. Kiyone allowed a humble smile.

"I actually only got a nine thirty-seven on the test, Officer Kuramitsu. There were a lot of other people who scored better than I did."

"Oh, no one will care if we round up a bit," she said, an impish twinkle in her eye. "And please, call me _Mihoshi_! We _are_ going to be partners, aren't we?"

"Um, yes—I mean, it would be my life's greatest honor if we were. But I couldn't possibly address you so formally."

"Why not?" Kiyone blushed, once again taken off guard. Another bizarre behavior of the Miracle's? Maybe it would be best to humor her.

"Oh! Well, if you put it that way, then... Anyway, Officer Kurami...mi, Mi, Mihoshi, are you all right? You took an awful fall into that desk."

"Oh, yeah," she giggled. "Don't worry, things like this happen to me all the time! I guess I tripped and fell because I was late."

"Ah," she smiled, relieved to hear her theory was true. "Urgent police business?"

"Hmm...nope! I overslept!"

Kiyone flinched. Overslept?! Unless...

"Ah, so were you working all night?"

"Hmm...nope! I mean, I went singing at a karaoke club, but I only stayed there until 9:00 pm."

"Wh...why? Uh, i-if you don't mind my asking, ma'am?"

"Mi_ho_shi!" she pointed, smiling wryly. Kiyone grinned sheepishly.

"Right, Mihoshi. So you were at a karaoke club for...undercover work?"

"No, silly," she laughed, "I just really like to go out singing!"

"That's it?" she blurted. "But, I mean...you said you only stayed out until nine. Did you...go and do anything else?"

"Hmm, not really. I went straight home, took a bath, watched some TV, and went to bed."

Kiyone badly wanted to shout, "But then _how_ could you have _overslept_?!" She didn't, of course; she still remembered who she was speaking to. It could still classify as the strange behavior of a brilliant mind...or else it could all be a devious ruse. Kiyone wondered if it wasn't the second possibility: after all, some genius must shine through the eccentricities. She'd be able to _know_ if Mihoshi was really brilliant in no time at all, UNLESS this was another test, and she was trying to catch her future partner off guard.

This was obviously what was happening. Mihoshi was following a very old and very effective strategy: give off the illusion of foolishness and ignorance to confound the other party. Great leaders, including more than a few Jurai Emperors, had employed this tactic in the past, and now Mihoshi was doing the same. It wasn't such a surprise now that Kiyone thought about it: only a crafty mastermind would be able to pull this off. She was testing her partner, but now Kiyone was in on it!

"I see," she said evenly. "Well, I guess it happens to all of us. Anyway, it's a pleasure to meet you, ma...Mihoshi."

"The same for me, Kiyone!" Mihoshi giggled and they shook hands again. She was a rather beautiful young woman, more or less Kiyone's age (which was both inspiring and humbling), though slightly thinner. She had lovely tan skin, large bright blue eyes brimming with love and wonder, and thick golden hair that seemed to blossom like a flower, held into a tail by a red ribbon Kiyone couldn't help but like (_Hmm,_ she thought, _so the Miracle has a sense of fashion_). She wore the exact same standard-issue uniform as all other Galaxy Police officers, from the cap crowning her flaxen mane down to the boots that clacked smartly on the floor. Her ears were a little longer than Kiyone's, and rounded at the edges, so she must've belonged to an offshoot species of the other humanoid _juria sapien_ scattered throughout the universe. All in all, she had a down-to-earth look and disposition that was very disarming—which might very well have been what Mihoshi had in mind.

_She's just as brilliant as the rumors say,_ she thought, as Mihoshi gave her a quick tour of her room. _Not only is she behaving in a manner contrary to what I first thought, but she even looks the part. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that Officer Kuramitsu was a normal woman._

"Say, Mihoshi," Kiyone said, as they were leafing through Mihoshi's various holo-photos, "what did you get for eight seventy-three? Politics were never my strong suit."

"Huh? What's that? Eight what?"

"On the test, question number eight-hundred seventy three. The one about officer protocol regarding disputed borderlands in times of civil war or unrest. I couldn't find any strong precedents."

Mihoshi looked utterly dumb-stricken.

"Say _whaaaat_?"

"I didn't get the question right, so I thought I'd review it with you."

"Oh! Uhh... Gee!" she laughed, waving dismissively, "Ya know what? I totally forgot that one!"

"Y-you forgot? But that was one of the hardest questions on the test! Most officers _never_ figure that out unless they go through years of rigorous training. What about five ninety-two?"

"What about it?"

"The use of antimatter transference in a geosynchronous orbit using a class-D frigate."

"I don't even know what most of those words _mean_!"

"But that's a life-or-death situation that affects every officer, and I got it wrong because I second-guessed myself!"

"Yeah, but there's no shame in missing the hard questions."

"I _know_ that," she growled, only barely managing to reign in her impatience. Deception was all fine and good, but it had to stop somewhere. If Kiyone was to trust her new partner, and vice-versa, they needed to be more open and honest. She took a deep breath. "My point is that you figured it out, and I want to know how." Mihoshi honestly looked stumped. Kiyone was about to say something to her when their communicators went off. It was their division chief, and his face looked even more grim than usual. Both officers stood at attention as his holographic image flickered to life.

"Officer Kuramitsu, Officer Makibi, I'm sorry to interrupt you, but a very urgent matter has just been brought to my attention. I'll be brief: I assume you're both familiar with Urisako Mahar?"

"The criminal mastermind?" Kiyone said.

"The Snapper?" Mihoshi said.

"Then I don't need to waste time briefing you on his capabilities. I've just been informed that he's stationed in the Breising system. We haven't been given a confirmation yet, so I'm sending officers to that area."

"Then are we to go as well?" He nodded harshly.

"Normally, I'd never send a pair of rookies on a mission this dangerous, but the Commissioner wants to see the two of you in action. I have to admit, as risky as it is, we seldom get the chance to see what two high-scoring officers can do. Besides," he added, pointing his finger at them, "I've got a good feeling about you two."

"Yes sir, thank you sir!" Kiyone said.

"We won't let you down!" Mihoshi added. The chief grunted.

"I'm sending you all the information we have. You're also going to be assigned your own personal cruiser. The Commissioner seems to think two geniuses deserve to have something a little better than our standard-issue interceptors. It's a brand-new model, so mind the paint job. Dismissed." With one final salute, his image faded. Kiyone was beside herself with anxiety—going after even a rumor of "the Snapper" was a task far beyond her inexperience—but Mihoshi was as blithe as ever, and Kiyone noticed.

"Wow, we really get our own ship? What do you think it'll look like? Ooh, what'll we _name_ it?"

"Mihoshi, aren't you worried about our mission? You know as well as I do what kind of damage Mahar is capable of. We may have scored high on the test, but that won't amount to much in the field."

"Oh. Right." She instantly turned pale and quivered. "I heard he can break a tree of Jurai in half, just by snapping his fingers! He's been at the top of the most wanted list for years! Um...do we really have to go after him?" As much as Kiyone hated cowards, she could understand her new partner's apprehension. Besides, it was somewhat of a relief to learn that even the Miracle could be afraid of something.

"We just have to ascertain if he's in the Breising system," she answered softly. "The chief didn't say anything about apprehending him. If we find anything, we report it at once and get out on the double." That put Mihoshi at ease; she offered a weak smile.

"Sounds like a good plan. Well then, partner, what are we waiting for?!"

…...

Midway to their rendezvous with section eighteen, Kiyone looked over at her partner, who was absorbed in reading, and broke the silence that had fallen during the long hours of warp travel.

"So, Mihoshi, why did you want to call it the _Yagami_?"

"Hmm? Oh, um, that's the name of one of my childhood heroes!" She beamed proudly and held up a colorful girl's comic book labeled _Supreme Yagami!_ Kiyone remembered her own brief interest in the sugary, silly serial, before she abandoned it for more mature matter. It focused on the exploits of a preteen girl named Yagami as she worked her way through strange lands, battling equally strange enemies. The hook was that these enemies had a penchant for puzzles, so Yagami would always challenge them to solve a weekly conundrum, rather than engage in brute force. It was a fairly effective educational tool, but clearly designed for a younger crowd.

"I remember those," she said, not without some nostalgia. "So you want our new ship to have the same pedigree, huh? It's a bit silly, but somehow it fits." Mihoshi seemed to think so, too, and buried herself in Yagami's mind-bending adventures. Kiyone had to wonder, though: had those comic books contributed to Mihoshi's astounding brilliance? Had a lifetime of solving puzzles, some admittedly more devious than they first appeared, prepared her for perfection on the Test? Thinking about it made Kiyone wonder: if she hadn't abandoned them for more lofty pursuits, would she have done any better?

"And you still read them," she stated. Mihoshi nodded happily, and Kiyone couldn't help but smile. In her own strange way, Mihoshi was still studying, still training herself, obviously not content to merely succeed against impossible odds. It was a very noble trait, one which Kiyone promised herself to emulate once this whole fiasco was over.

The _Yagami_ was fast, even for a police cruiser, and they made it to the Breising system in record time. Section eighteen had their work cut out for them, masking their awe and envy as the impressive new ship came into view. They hailed them and gave them further details on their mission before breaking off: Mihoshi and Kiyone were scheduled to land on the third of the system's four planets. As they hailed air traffic control and prepared to dock, it was Mihoshi's turn to ask a question.

"So why is it called the Breising system?" Kiyone was astonished Mihoshi wouldn't know that, but maybe it was another test. In any case, the answer wasn't exactly common knowledge.

"Haven't you ever heard the story of the Breising necklace? It was said to be so beautiful, the goddess Freuhildr agreed to sell her body for its exchange. She ended up giving herself to four monstrous trolls, who had made the necklace on her behalf. The four planets of the Breising system are named after those trolls." Mihoshi recoiled in disgust, but wondered how Kiyone knew that. This was actually a personal question, so she didn't begrudge her partner the ignorance.

"A teacher I had a crush on in prep school was obsessed with ancient, pagan stories. I studied them in a foolish attempt to grow closer to him."

"Aww," Mihoshi cooed. Kiyone turned stony again and focused on docking maneuvers. Like any self-respecting Galaxy Police officer, she had a pilot's license. _Yagami's_ model was a bit unorthodox, but she was able to get the hang of it after a few tense starts.

"Stop that. I need to concentrate for a moment. Actually, if you could help me out..."

"Um, sorry, I'm not used to these controls," she grinned sheepishly. Kiyone glared.

"But they shouldn't be any problem if you passed flight school."

"Yeah, but that was a long time ago, and it was a simulator, and they didn't have anything like—"

"Okay, just recalibrate pressurization in the tanks and maintain equilibrium." Mihoshi stared at her as if Kiyone had spoken gibberish. She turned pale and stared right back. "You _do_ know how to do that at least...?"

"Hmm? Oh, right! Um, yeah, it just took me a minute to figure out what you wanted! So make our oxygen and balance okay, right?" Kiyone sighed deeply. This ruse had served its purpose long ago, and she wished Mihoshi would just end it. Even calling it a side-effect of her brilliance was asking too much. If she didn't know any better...

"I think you've been reading those comics too long." She looked over and offered a tepid smile, but Mihoshi was busy with her duties. _Yagami_ landed with few difficulties, or at least none Kiyone felt she couldn't overcome the next time. For her part, Mihoshi had performed well, but really, now. Even the greenest recruit fresh from basic training would have been able to land this craft after a fashion.

Of the four planets orbiting Breising—Alfrigg, Dvalin, Berling, and Grer—only one could support life, but not very comfortably. The atmosphere was thin, and it cultivated strange plants, many of which were carnivorous. Its oceans were completely devoid of life, and experienced rough storms that prohibited civilization along the coasts. Very little of the land was fertile enough for food, and dangerous animals hunted at all times, indifferent to what they might catch. But for its two neighboring planets, which each carried precious minerals, and for its own veins, nobody would think twice about living there. Urisako Mahar had made a name for himself as a shipping magnate and consultant before using his knowledge for illegal gains, and now he had apparently come back to oversee his empire.

Aside from growing up in a harsh environment, and being taught by some of the best minds in the area, Mahar had the unusual ability to create and amplify shockwaves simply by snapping his fingers. The waves could cut through virtually anything, and seemed to require no further input than Mahar's own hands. He claimed it was a lost martial art he had picked up during his merchant's travels, and it must have truly been lost if even the Galaxy Police, or Jurai's royal records, could not find any reference to back his claim up.

The air on Berling was bitter but breathable, its weather stale and stagnant. The sky was all shades of red, and the clouds looked sickly, though they produced honest water. Mihoshi looked positively ill even in the spaceport, where the air was filtered. Kiyone knew that secrecy would be essential for this mission, so she registered as traders, the most common traffic Breising knew (she was even given a supply of foodstuffs should an actual transaction be required). They abandoned their uniforms and anything else that would link them to the Galaxy Police, instead covering themselves in the ragged, threadbare robes most traders seemed to wear. Kiyone wasn't exactly vain, but even she had to grimace every time she looked at herself in a mirror. They eventually made it out of the port, and were greeted by a blast of harsh wind.

"Ugh, pleasant," Kiyone grumbled. She looked over at Mihoshi, who had the foresight to add eye protection. "Hmm, don't we look terrible? But at least we blend in...though we do seem a little too clean for this place."

"I'd rather not smear mud or grease all over my face," Mihoshi added. Kiyone smiled grimly.

"We may have to. We're still too conspicuous. Anyway, what's the plan, boss?"

"_Boss_?"

"You got a problem with that?" she winked. Mihoshi nodded her head fiercely. "But I'll be taking direction from you. Come on, you're familiar with the mining operations on this system. Where would a guy like Mahar be hiding?"

"I don't have a clue!" she blurted. "And I don't know the first thing about mining on _any_ planet, not even my home world!" Kiyone balked.

"But...you aced every single question on the test relating to it. Mihoshi, that was ten questions!"

"Was there really? How many did you get right?"

Not for the first time in their relationship—or the last—Kiyone let out a frustrated grunt.

"That doesn't matter! Just tell me our course of action!" Mihoshi was obviously nervous, so Kiyone calmed down and softened her voice. She finally figured out why her genius partner was behaving so erratically: she had absolutely no real-world experience whatsoever. But of course! She had likely spent her entire life preparing for that test, but couldn't apply what she knew on paper towards actual practice. Merely knowing the answers didn't necessarily make one prepared, and thus her nerves had flared. She was as antsy about this mission as Kiyone had been about their first meeting.

She placed a tender hand on her partner's arm. "I'm sorry, Mihoshi. I didn't mean to yell at you. Frankly, I'm a little nervous, too. This isn't just a regular mission we're on, it's one of the most dangerous criminals on record. Anyone would choke under that kind of pressure. But I believe in you, and I'm here to help you if you need it. I _know_ you can do this for real." She smiled and flashed her a thumbs-up. "So let's go show Urisako Mahar what we can do!"

"You're right, Kiyone," she announced, her face set and her eyes hard. "Now's not the time to shiver in our boots. We are the Galaxy Police, sworn defenders of order in the universe. And we're going..." Her hand hovered before her, until finally settling over a sparse area north-northeast. "THAT way!"

"Are you sure? How can you tell?" Mihoshi's shift in attitude happened just as suddenly as it did before; she stuck her finger in her mouth and stared emptily at the sky.

"Uh...I dunno. Woman's intuition?"

Kiyone went into spasms, gnashing her teeth, tempted to yank her hair out until she was bald. Then again, she had no idea where to start, either, and asking around was an open invitation for trouble.

"I suppose one direction's as good as another," she sighed.

One might think they were moving into the seedy underbelly of Berling, but in fact all of Berling was seedy. The structures, if they could even be called that, were little more than shacks, some so dilapidated they would count as condemned on better worlds. Large piles of trash crowned many of the "yards", many of them covered with small creatures, scurrying and scavenging around. One of those creatures looked up, hissed, and clawed at the air as the two officers passed, and it took Kiyone a moment to realize it was human. Large vehicles puttered along the dusty roads, emitting smoke and churning like some great dying dragon. Nothing grew, at least nothing healthy. Pickpockets openly plied their art everywhere they went, and soon the two officers were grateful they had left everything important back on the ship. Kiyone caught one, but he spat in her face and ran.

"This is some place," she remarked. She looked over at Mihoshi, who was kneeling down talking to a young child. While she was distracted, several other kids were rummaging through her clothes for anything of value. Kiyone shooed them away, wondering where Mihoshi's genius ended and where the eccentric began. Mihoshi paid no attention to her stare and led them haphazardly down an alleyway, saying she had a "good feeling" about that place.

"Mihoshi," Kiyone groaned, "we can't go wandering around this planet without some idea of where we're going! We aren't going to find anything by just walking down an alleyway and expecting..." She trailed off as they came across an unusual spectacle. Six or seven males of various alien species were gathered around, transporting boxes and crates into a trailer. One of the males stood on a stairway that led into another building, supervising their work. He glanced up as the undercover officers wandered in.

"Huh? Who are you? How'd you find this place? If you're traders, I got no business with you."

"Oh, but we came such a long way to exchange our food with this guy named Mahar," Mihoshi blurted. The man in charge drew back.

"I'm Mahar. Take a hint, before I start chopping you up."

Kiyone nearly fell over dead on the spot. Mihoshi's intuition had led them right into the hornet's nest!

"Yo, Uri, I seen this woman's face somewhere before," one of his workers interjected, pointing his thumb at Mihoshi. "There's somethin' about that hair I can't put my finger on..."

"Hey, you're right!" another shouted, drawing a blaster. "She was on the news! The first person to get a perfect score on the GP Test! These are _cops_, Uri!" Mahar cursed and snapped his fingers, issuing waves of shredding power at the officers. Mihoshi and Kiyone quickly dove under cover, but the barriers were already starting to crack. Gunfire chased after them and kept them pinned down, as if Mahar's own abilities weren't enough.

"It looks like we found him!" Mihoshi shouted over the commotion. "Should we report this and call for backup?"

"No, we should get our butts outta here!" Kiyone screeched. They had no way of defending themselves, and the only way out was through a narrow alley. Mahar would have more than enough people working for him to box them in, and then it would be all over. Kiyone honestly didn't know what was more distressing: that Mihoshi's guess had landed them right in their target's backyard; that they had been so drastically unprepared; that their cover had been blown so easily; that they would soon be captured or killed; that nobody knew where they were; that Mahar would soon abandon Berling in any case, forcing the GP to start their hunt all over again; or that the Miracle had disappointed her so overwhelmingly.

That last part was a bit unfair. Sometimes all it takes is desperation and distress for people to truly shine. Mihoshi was certifiably brilliant; surely she could get them out of this, or at least turn the tables in their favor. Maybe this was all part of her plan. Maybe she had known where Mahar was located all this time, and was playing dumb right until the end. Kiyone was humbled by how much hope she could still hang onto, and eased her shoulders, willing herself to relax.

"Mihoshi," she called, "it's now or never! You take point and I'll cover you!"

"Uh...do you think _you_ could handle this, and maybe I'll back you up?" Kiyone frowned, wondering if this was an act of cowardice or of good faith. She decided to giver her partner the benefit of the doubt: Mihoshi obviously didn't want Kiyone to always depend on her—perhaps that's why she acted the way she did. Of course she was a miracle, but that didn't excuse Kiyone from her job. She felt ashamed as she realized this.

"Of course, I understand," she murmured. Kiyone took a deep breath, and risked a glance into the alley, trying to form a plan. While she couldn't see any clear way out, there was one risky option left, but she would have to have perfect communication with her partner. This was Mihoshi's chance to prove herself. She looked across at her partner and gave several hand signals: _I'll run in and draw their fire, you tear the trailer's exhaust. We then apprehend the target and make our exit. _She detached the hidden laser cutter in her shoe and slid it across the ground. Tearing open the exhaust pipe would release a thick cloud of fumes, giving them just enough cover to capture Mahar. It was a good plan, but there was just one problem: Mihoshi didn't seem to understand any of Kiyone's gestures. In fact, she just grinned and waved at her.

_No,_ she signaled, then repeated herself slowly and more clearly. Mihoshi shook her head, causing her partner to slam her face against her palm. Now was NOT the time to play dumb. Kiyone glared at her partner and was just about to scream her instructions when four of the thugs cleared the alleyway, leveling their blasters at them.

"Gaaah!" Mihoshi screamed, bolting upright, arms held high. "We surrender!"

"MIHOSHI!" But what else could they do? They were out of options, they didn't have any weapons, and they wouldn't receive any backup. Their only hope now was to give themselves up, and look for a chance of escape. Kiyone grudgingly went along with them, a cold steely barrel digging into her back as she was led to the staircase. Urisako Mahar stared at them indifferently, rubbing his fingers together. He was dressed in a dark striped suit, with a red undershirt and a green tie. His shoes were impeccably clean, his face lean and very angular. Though his eyes were slanted and flat, his nose was very long, like an eagle's, and his hair flared in the back, giving him a very birdlike appearance.

"Search them," he commanded. His men shrugged.

"They don't got nothin'. Sides, they just ran through the thieves' gauntlet."

"Did I stutter?" he hissed. "Galaxy Police officers carry concealed weapons. Check their shoes." Kiyone was forced to kick hers off, but Mihoshi lacked the deadly addition. She was, however, still carrying the cutter Kiyone had loaned her, and was made to drop it. Both women were frisked one final time, either a last humiliation before their mortality was ended—or a preview of ruder things to come. Mahar commanded them approach: Kiyone glared at him in disgust.

"Unfortunately for you, ladies, I can't kill you. Your presence indicates some awareness of my behavior on the Police's side, and if you were to go missing, it would impede my plans. So I'm going to interrogate you. The question is, who should I start with?"

The answer was obvious; Kiyone would never allow this sick scum access to Mihoshi's brilliance. Besides, Mihoshi would only continue her ruse, and that would invite more agony, something Kiyone couldn't bear. _She_ was the expendable one, so she volunteered.

"Take me first! Leave her out of it! She knows nothing!"

"It's true, Mr. Mahar. I really have no clue." Mahar smiled cruelly.

"Take her. Torture her. If she's so important to you, officer, then you had better tell us what you know, before we do any...irreparable harm." He cackled and held his thumb and middle finger up, pressing them together. A single snap would cleave either of them in two. Kiyone felt utterly sickened and cursed; Mihoshi screamed as she was dragged away. Her foot happened to land on the cutter she had dropped, causing her to slip and flail wildly, striking both of her guards in the face. She fell flat as gunfire erupted, and Kiyone saw her chance in the confusion, striking one guard in the knee while decking the other. Mahar's fingers cracked, but Mihoshi scrambled out of their destructive path, eventually finding cover among the crates his men had been stashing away. Before Mahar could scream, "Stop firing, you fools," a shower of lasers chased after her, breaking the boxes open and igniting their contents.

Mihoshi was still running scared as the narrow passage went up in flames. The trailer burst open, flinging debris and shrapnel everywhere. More and more crates caught fire, sending a chain reaction that engulfed the entire area. She and Kiyone found cover behind a distant brick wall, and they stayed buried there while Mahar's screams competing with the whizzing, banging, and popping of a hundred explosives going off at once. Even their protection was soon compromised, and the wall fell to rubble around them.

It seemed like hours passed before things settled down again. Kiyone coughed badly as she pulled herself out of the wreckage. She had bruises everywhere, and plenty of cuts to boast about later, but nothing serious. In spite of her pain, she helped dig Mihoshi out, calling her name over and over. She finally unearthed the sputtering young woman, who was alive and well, if not beaten, dirty, and senseless. Kiyone waved the drifting smoke away until they could breathe again.

"You okay, Mihoshi?"

"(Kff, kff! Kff, kff!) Y-yeah, I'm...fine. Ughhnnn... Wh, what about you, Kiyone?"

"Nothing a trip to the medical ward can't fix. (Kff, kff!) By Tsunami, what a mess! That was awfully reckless back there, partner, but I guess it saved our lives in the end. You're definitely a miracle! I'll never doubt your credentials again."

"Thanks," she smiled amidst abating coughs. "But I don't understand why those explosions started. Were they carrying dynamite or something?" Kiyone stared incredulously at her partner. She honestly didn't want to take back what she had just said, but...

"Mihoshi, you _do_ know what Berling exports, right?" The young blonde shook her head helplessly. "Thermite! They mine the ingredients for thermite! It's one of the most volatile chemical mixes out there! They use it for _rocket fuel_!"

"They do? Ooohh! So _that's_ why spaceships burn on liftoff! I always wondered how they did it."

Suddenly Kiyone felt as if someone had crushed her soul. She only snapped out of it when Mihoshi mentioned searching the area for survivors. Kiyone brushed aside her misgivings and helped her; in the end, only three of the men were discovered still alive, including Mahar. They were completely knocked out, though, and were too injured to resist in any case. Mihoshi cuffed them as a precaution while Kiyone made the call to base (not that it was necessary; the explosions had summoned ambulances and firefighters). Her supervisors were understandably shocked, but relieved all the same.

"They'll be here soon," she reported. Mihoshi stood, letting out a little sigh as she secured the last of the criminals. Kiyone gazed upon her with a mixture of awe and doubt, in spite of everything that had happened. This creature was easily the most incompetent, cowardly, foolish person Kiyone had ever met, yet not only had she led them directly to Mahar's lair, but she had basically disrupted his empire and disabled or captured his entire crew, along with the man himself. Even putting all that aside, the fact remained that she had scored perfectly on the Test. Just what was the deal here...?

"Say, Mihoshi? Just how much of that test do you actually remember?"

"Hmm?" She wiped some grime off her face and smiled. "Well, the first hundred and fifty questions were really easy, and the next hundred or so weren't all that difficult once I thought about them a little. I had a tough time with the next fifty, but after that, well...I just guessed!" She giggled bashfully, but her words were like giant spikes being hammered into Kiyone's chest. She could barely stand or even speak, she was trembling so much.

"So...are you telling me...that because you didn't know the answers...you just guessed for seven-hundred questions...AND YOU GOT EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THOSE GUESSES _RIGHT_?!"

"Um...yes, I think so. That's what people tell me, anyway."

Kiyone couldn't take it anymore, and took the only comfort she could have by dropping into a dead faint.

…...

Two days later, Kiyone found herself standing patiently before her section chief's desk, dressed in an official Galaxy Police uniform, her badge and ID pinned neatly upon her breast. The physical copy of her report was in his hands, and he was reading it carefully. Quite a long time passed before he spoke up.

"It seems my feelings were correct, Officer Makibi. You and Officer Kuramitsu make a fine team."

"With all due respect, sir, I do not share in your belief. In fact, you'll notice I also filed a formal request for Officer Kuramitsu to retake the test."

"Yes, I saw it," he replied nonchalantly, and seemed content to leave it at that. Kiyone gave him a concerned look.

"Sir, she admitted to guessing seven-hundred answers. If it were only a few, I wouldn't be so upset. She has little or no knowledge of even the most basic requirements, and is physically and...well, if I may say so, sir, mentally uncoordinated. I will admit, Officer Kuramitsu's character or integrity has never come into question, and she has as much respect and dedication to the service as anybody I've known. However—" He stopped her, patiently holding up his hand.

"I am aware of Officer Kuramitsu's...expertise, shall we say. I am also aware of her true academic achievement, as is the Commissioner. However, as you have stated, Officer Makibi, she answered seven-hundred of the most difficult questions the greatest minds in history have ever conceived. Regardless of whether or not she actually _knew_ those answers, she got them all right. As you stated, a handful of good guesses is nothing special, but to get so _many—_all of them, in fact—is nothing short of miraculous. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Sir," she answered delicately, "I admit it's remarkable, but luck alone isn't—"

"On the contrary, Officer: I believe in this case it's necessary, even required. We have the best people in the universe, Makibi, and that test proves it. Strength, willpower, knowledge, experience, leadership, integrity...these are all fine traits to have. But sometimes, the only thing that separates success from failure is a healthy dose of luck. Both you and Officer Kuramitsu have this in spades. After all," he added with a smirk, "wasn't it _luck_ that selected you out of a pool of eight-hundred? Now I'm not a spiritual person, officer, but sometimes, we have to accept that some things are _meant_ to be. For better or for worse, Makibi, you and your partner are bound together by luck."

She took a moment to fully absorb everything he had said. A hollow, cold feeling still found its way into her stomach.

"This is your final decision, sir?"

"It is. You are dismissed, Officer. Welcome to the force."

"Thank you," she said emptily, saluting crisply. Kiyone headed back to her locker, walking like she was on death row. So not only would Mihoshi not have to take the test again, but they would remain partners. From this moment on, unless her superiors found good reason to separate them, she was stuck with the universe's most bumbling fool, its feeblest coward, its dimmest and most inept mind. Oh, she was a miracle, all right...

And she was waiting in the locker room. Of course she was; they shared one now. Kiyone would see her every moment of her professional life. There was no way she could escape her.

"Hi, Kiyone! Isn't it great? I just heard that we get to keep being partners! This is the happiest day of my life! Why, if we're lucky, we may even get to be partners forever!"

"Luck?!" she scowled, staring at the creature with haggard eyes. Mihoshi beamed, blissfully unaware of the other woman's distress. Kiyone slammed her head against the cold metal of her locker. "Mihoshi, I don't care what anyone says. To me, you're nothing but _bad_ luck!"

**The End!**

Author's notes:

This probably isn't the "official" version of how they met, but I'd really like to think it went along these lines. For those of you interested in more, I'm planning on writing a sequel to this story that takes place several years later, set after the downfall of Kagato. Since I only have access to the _Tenchi Universe_ continuity and don't remember any of the others well enough (or just haven't seen them), I will be using that.


End file.
